Gone Fishing
by The Rogue Lion
Summary: Growing up, it wasn't unusual for Nick to hear about fathers abandoning their families, and at the time, he didn't think it could happen to him too. Now a successful officer at the ZPD, Nick receives a letter from his father after 25 years of neglect. Then, underneath the guise of a fishing trip, Nick decides to track his father down so he can finally get the answers he deserves.
1. Chapter 1

**The Usual**

Nick licked his chops, savoring the traces of his midday meal. He looked down at his partner, who appeared to be equally satisfied from their lunchbreak.

"You know," Judy started, "I was a little skeptical when you suggested that new hole in the wall diner the other day. But after trying it out, I have to admit that it was _really_ good. It was one of your better suggestions."

"Carrots, please, _all_ of my suggestions are good suggestions. You should know that by now," the red fox replied smoothly.

"Now and look at what you've done; you've just left a bad taste in my mouth," the rabbit said, pairing her words with a disgusted face. "I'm almost tempted to turn back and refresh my taste buds with something else from their menu. Those tarts did look mouthwatering…"

"Maybe on another day. That was all the time we had for lunch; we're on duty now." Nick paused for a moment then shuddered. "Ugh, I feel like you now. On second thought, let's go back."

"Nick…" Judy said in a chastising tone.

"What?" he replied defensively. "Bogo'll find some reason or another to yell at us—"

"You mean you."

"—so we might as well make a little detour. A few extra minutes won't hurt!" he finished without skipping a beat.

Judy rolled her eyes. "We can always go back _after_ our shift. I can wait and so can you. We're supposed to be on patrol."

"Fine," Nick relented as they returned to their parked car. He stood expectantly next to the passenger side door while Judy was on the driver's side. "Just unlock this thing and let's get moving."

"I thought you had them," Judy said. The look on former con-artist's face prompted the bunny to pat herself down. Alarm spread across her face as she failed to locate the car keys on her person. "Did I leave them back at the diner?"

"Nope. We didn't leave anything behind when we left."

She took a deep, calming breath. "Okay, then that means I had to have dropped them somewhere along the way. If we just retrace our steps, we'll find them. Let's split up and look. It'll be faster that way. We'll text each other if we find them."

"I'll check around the car; you go back where we were," Nick said.

"Right!"

Judy barely took two full strides before she heard the car doors unlock. She froze and turned around slowly. Standing next to the car jingling a set of keys in one paw was Nick with his lips twisted into one of the smuggest smiles she had ever seen. In his other paw was his phone. A second later, the rabbit felt a buzzing in her pocket. Judy reached for her phone and saw a text from her partner.

 _found them_ 😎

Immediately, she understood. "You had the keys the entire time, didn't you?"

"I just checked around the car and happened to find them," he said innocently.

Judy eyed his uniform, spying the one unbuttoned flap of his breast pocket then glared at him. She trudged back to the driver's side door and got in, but not before throwing out, "I hate you."

Nick held out the keys once he got inside allowing Judy to snatch them out of his paws. The vehicle hummed as it returned to life and the rabbit pulled out into the streets, not bothering to wait for the fox to put on his seatbelt. She glared straight ahead and hunched over the wheel, gripping it tightly.

As the pair approached a red light, Nick joked, "You'd think that an officer of your caliber would be able to keep tabs on something as simple as car keys."

Judy slammed on the breaks as they reached the intersection, propelling Nick forward and causing him to bump his head on the dashboard. There was a smug look of her own on the rabbit's face. "Oops. Sorry."

Nick rubbed the throbbing ache on his head and chuckled. "Sly bunny."

"Dumb fox."

* * *

Nick stretched out his arms and yawned loudly as he stared at the unfinished police report on the computer screen in front of him. He glanced at the clock. It was only half past three, but the red fox was already feeling a little groggy from having worked so diligently for the last few hours.

Okay, maybe he wasn't being _completely_ truthful with himself, but he was still tired. While he had his theories as to what might be the cause—that his species was typically nocturnal, something he'd tell whomever tried to lecture him on his coffee habits—there was one thing that was certain: he needed a little pick-me-up.

He pushed away from his desk, sending him and his rolling office chair back a foot or two. Before he could plant both feet on the floor, his partner's voice rang out from behind him.

"And where do you think you're going?" Judy asked without looking back, her words accompanied by the click-clack of her keyboard.

"Just going to the break room for a little coffee run," he replied.

"Finish your report first. We both know what happens when you take 'coffee breaks.'"

Nick folded his arms. "Carrots, please, I'm more than capable of returning to work once I've had my coffee, but not so much before. And I did finish that report."

"You're also Chief Bogo's favorite officer," she said sarcastically.

"Alright, fine. I didn't finish the report yet," the fox admitted. "But I will when I get back! Scout's honor."

Nick raised his right paw and puffed out his chest. Had Judy stopped what she was doing to look, she might have believed him. Actually, no—she would have lost even more faith in him. Although, that would imply that she had some in the first place. Regardless, it seemed that the bunny wasn't going to be distracted any longer.

Judy said, "Just…bring me back something too. I could use a little boost to get through this."

"Gotcha."

Nick stuffed his paws in his pockets and walked to the break room at a leisurely pace. Once there, he let out another yawn and prepared a fresh batch of coffee. To pass the time, he pulled out his phone and began to browse through several apps, keeping himself updated on what he had been missing during work. This didn't last long as one of the chubbier cheetahs Nick had met in his life stepped into the room.

"Oh, hey, Nick!" Clawhauser greeted.

Nick put away his phone and said, "Hey, Benj. What's up?"

The cheetah walked up to the cupboards and started to rifle through the items stored inside. "Just refilling my stash at the front desk," he said. "I forgot to restock the other day, so I ran out. What about you? Making some more coffee?"

The fox watched as the precinct's receptionist pulled out boxes of crackers, chips, and other assorted goods from the cabinets. "Yep! Can't live without it! I'm also supposed to bring some back for Carrots. How much do you think I should set aside for her? Two drops? Maybe three?" he joked.

Clawhauser laughed. "You're just as bad as me when it comes to—you know. Judy's always on our cases about this kind of stuff."

"Tell me about it," Nick said, rolling his eyes. "'A good officer should always be at peak perfor—blah, blah, blah.'"

The two chuckled in unison at the fox's lame impression. "Oh, right! I almost forgot!" the cheetah said, perking up. "You two got some more fan mail waiting for you in the mail room. You should stop on by sometime and pick it all up. You guys are really popular, you know."

"People do get excited about the first fox and bunny cops, especially when they're partners." The coffee maker next to Nick dinged, drawing both of their attentions. "Well that's my cue."

Clawhauser leaned down and picked up all the snacks he had picked out. "This should be enough to tide me over for a couple days. See you around, Nick. Say 'hi' to Judy for me!" the cheetah said, leaving.

Surprisingly, nothing fell from the receptionist's arms, prompting Nick to smile in amusement as he poured himself a cup. He retrieved his phone again, this time while gingerly sipping on his hot drink. He poured another for his partner and took off for the mail room where he had gotten in and out quicker than Judy could accuse him for slacking off.

The red fox returned to his desk minutes later, setting down his partner's coffee onto her desk along with her portion of the mail. He plopped onto his seat and dropped his now empty coffee cup into the trash before beginning to sort through his letters.

He opened them one by one, skimming through each of them. Most wrote about how he had inspired them to do better, to move up in the world. A handful of others condemned him for 'selling out' so easily. Nothing too out of the ordinary. In either case, he didn't let what people wrote him sway his emotions; he was better than that.

At least that was what he told himself until he found a letter addressed from one John Wilde.

Nick took a moment to stare at the handwriting on the envelope's face and the address it was sent from. His paws shook, betraying the stoic mask he usually wore to hide his feelings. He brandished a single claw and tore an opening in its side. He poured out its contents, revealing two separate letters. One of them was weathered and yellowed while the other appeared to be more recent. He picked up the older one and froze.

He read through it several times, his eyes flickering back to the beginning as soon as they left the end. With each passthrough, Nick clenched his teeth harder and gripped the letter tighter. It wasn't long before he caught himself baring his teeth. Instantly, he forced himself to visibly relax, drawing upon years' worth of experience of keeping cool. It did nothing, however, to soothe the turmoil brewing within himself.

He briefly glanced back at his partner who hadn't even begun to go through the letters she received; she was still focused on her report.

Nick carefully tucked the old letter back into its envelope and picked up the newer one.

 _To Nicholas Wilde:_

 _I apologize for not being able to get this to you sooner, but unfortunate circumstances have only allowed me to send this to you now. You deserve an explanation, but I think doing it in person would be best._

 _If you can, please come to 11340 Collins Street, Pattermort._

 _My door will always be open for you._

 _Sincerely,_

 _A friend of John's_

"What was that about 'scout's honor?'" Judy's voice rang out from directly behind him.

Nick flinched and gave himself another moment to compose himself. He set the letter on his desk and turned around, putting on an exasperated face. "Jeez, Carrots, don't sneak up on me like that."

Judy placed two paws onto her hips and gave him a pointed look. "And I thought you said foxes had a better handle on their surroundings than bunnies did."

"They do," he replied matter-of-factly. He leaned back in his seat, crossing one foot over his knee and resting his elbow on the head of his chair. "You just caught me off-guard is all. Don't let it go to your head. It's big enough as it is, honestly."

Nick wore a half-smile, but winced inwardly. He probably could have done without the small jab, but it was a force of habit to deflect back at whomever happened to be nearby. She was a tough bunny anyways. It's not like that kind of insult would bother her.

"Right…" she said at length.

Judging from her tone, it didn't seem like it did. He studied the rest of her body language, seeing if she had noticed—

"So, what's in the letter?" she asked.

Nick's smile faded. "Nothin' but the usual." He spun around to face his computer again. He deftly gathered the letters spread across his desk, subtly hiding the last pair he had been reading within the stack. "'Wow, Mr. Wilde, you're really cool!' or 'You're an absolute disgrace to your kind,'" he said, giving the two quotations their own voices. "You know—just the usual."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "And that last letter was also 'just the usual?'"

He really had to stop underestimating his partner. She had shown multiple times how capable and perceptive she was. He had been so caught up in hiding his emotions, he wasn't thinking rationally.

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. I just wish you'd trust me a little more. We are partners after all."

Nick clenched his fists in his lap. Never before in his life had he ever had someone he could trust, someone he could confide in. Finnick wasn't cut out for that sort of thing and his mother—well, there really wasn't a whole lot he could tell her back then given his line of work. But now…

"Look, you don't have to tell me anything," Judy continued. "It's fine. Just finish your report before Bogo gets—the usual, you know?" The bunny went back to her station and resumed typing, leaving her friend to his own devices.

The fox unclenched his fists and released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. Even after opening up to her on the gondola, he wasn't quite ready to share some of the more sensitive intricacies of his life. Maybe someday, he'd tell her.

But for now, Nick stretched his fingers and began typing the rest of his report.

* * *

"Mmph, I gotta say—" Nick paused to fork another piece of his dish into his not-so-empty maw. "—you make the _best_ bugloaf. It is out of this world!"

He flashed his signature smile, somehow managing to keep its usual charm despite having his mouth full of food. The aged vixen sitting across from him laughed and cut a piece from her own dish using the cutlery in her paws.

"If you really enjoy it that much, how come you don't visit more often, Nick?" she said before taking a bite. "The last time I heard from you was when you graduated from the academy."

Nick's face fell, and he looked away, not wishing to make eye contact. He rubbed his neck nervously. "Ah, you know, work's been busy. Tons of reports to work on. And stuff." He cleared his throat and turned back to face her, donning his smile once more. "But…things have finally started slowing down a bit, so I decided that it was a great time to see dear old mom!"

"Uh huh," his mother said in a half-amused tone. "I'm not that old, Nick; I'm only 52. I've still got plenty of fight left in me."

"Fair point; you could give some of the girls I've seen on the streets a run for their money. Did I forget to mention that you are looking absolutely _radiant_ this evening. Why I—"

"Just tell me what you want, Nick," she said, setting her fork and knife down. "It's only been 16 years since you last lived under this roof, but I can still tell when you're trying to get something from me. Especially when you're being that obvious."

Getting straight to the point, Nick asked, "You still have a bunch of stuff from when I was still a kid, right?"

"I kept everything back then. Not like it was a difficult thing to do, seeing as we didn't have much in the first place. But yes, why?"

"Some of the guys back at work were talking about their childhoods and stuff. It was just bringing up some old memories," he lied smoothly. He nonchalantly cut off another bite-sized piece of his meal as he waited for his mother's response.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "If that was all you wanted, you could have just said so. Here I was thinking you were trying to ask for money because you got into another scuffle or something." Nick applauded himself for being able to get past his mother. "I would have given it to you, of course, but…did you really have to get mixed up with those polar bears?"

Nick dropped his tableware and buried his face in his paws, groaning. "Are you _still_ hung up over that? That was 10 years ago! I was young and stupid, I get it. But I paid you back, didn't I?"

"It's not about the money, Nick!" she said, frustrated. "I was worried about you! I hear stories all the time about how young troublemakers like you get involved with the mob and—well—let's just leave at that. You're all I have left now. I'm just happy you're well and alive and that you _haven't_ been working with the mob again." She sighed, calming down from her tirade. Her brow furrowed and she shot an accusatory stare at her son. "…Right?"

"Right. I am a cop now and it would be against my oath to work with criminals like that while on the job," he said carefully.

The pair resumed their eating and for several seconds, there was only the sound of metal bouncing against ceramic. Then the vixen spoke again. "Anyways, I moved everything I don't use into your old room—it's down the hall, first door to your left."

"Mom, I remember where my old room is."

"I was just making sure since you didn't seem to remember that you had a mother in the first place."

Nick rubbed his temples. "Look, I'm sorry I haven't visited. I promise I'll try harder."

His mother stood up with her now empty plate and walked towards the sink. "I'm just teasing. If you're really that busy, it's fine. But if you do drop by, try seeing if that bunny friend of yours wants to come. It's been a while since I've had guests. It'd be fun."

"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively. Judy probably would jump at the opportunity to see where he grew up and meet his mother. But he wasn't sure if he wanted that to happen. The chaos that it would bring would be impossible to navigate through.

"You can go in whenever you're finished eating," she said as she turned on the faucet. "Remember—"

"'No wasting food,' I got it. I definitely haven't forgotten that one." He stood up and handed her his plate, which she took without another word. "I'm gonna head in then."

She hummed in approval and began washing the dishes while Nick set foot into his old bedroom for the first time in years.

A cloud of dust wafted up to his face, prompting him to cough. Once he recovered, he flicked on the light switch to see stacks upon stacks of boxes. He spent a few minutes rummaging around until he found a box labeled '1992.' He wiped away the dust on top, this time managing to keep it out of his lungs, and opened it. Inside was a collection of different items—an old baseball, some pictures, and most importantly, old letters.

He flipped them open, ignoring their contents for the most part. He wasn't interested in what they said—he knew the words by heart anyways. What he cared most about was the handwriting on them and the address they were sent from.

A lump formed in his throat. There was no doubt. The letter he had received earlier today, or rather one of the letters, had been written by his father.

Every obscenity Nick knew rolled off his tongue. After 25 years of not being in his life, that bastard was trying to somehow worm his way back in. Nick pursed his lips and glanced at the box in front of him again. He heard his mother's footsteps approaching, but instead of stuffing everything back inside, something compelled him to take things out. He quickly gathered several items from the box and some from another.

"Did you find what you needed, Nick?" she called out.

He closed the box labeled '1992' and shoved it off to the side. "Yeah, I did. Do you think I could take some of this with me?"

"Sure. Let me get something for you to put them in." She disappeared from the doorway, leaving Nick alone again.

He shuffled the items he had in such a way that she wouldn't be able to see some of the choice things he had picked out. His mom returned with another smaller box in tow and handed it to him.

"What are you going to do with that stuff?" she asked as he placed his things inside.

In his head, he asked himself the same question. "Think I'm just gonna look through them for a while. Nostalgia, you know? I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not. Keep them as long as you like." She surveyed the mountains of boxes in the room. "I probably should get rid of a bunch of this, but there are a lot of good memories in here," she said as she wistfully blew away some dust sitting atop nearby boxes. The vixen sighed and saw that Nick was getting ready to leave. "Are you going to be heading out now?"

"Yeah," he replied.

"Alright, let me get the door."

The pair of foxes exited the room and walked down the hall to the door of the small apartment. "Don't forget to visit again, okay?"

"I will!"

His mother spread her arms apart, asking for a hug. Relenting, Nick set the box he was carrying onto the floor and embraced her.

"I'm proud of you, Nicky," she said.

He chuckled at her nickname for him. "I know. I love you, mom." He gave her a peck on the cheek and picked up the box, flashing one more smile at her before leaving.

* * *

 **So some of you might have seen the story title and all and wondered what was going on. Answer is that I decided to rewrite the entirety of chapter 1 and parts of chapter 2. Seeing as that was pretty much all I had before, I figured I'd just reupload this as a fresh story (especially since the last time I updated was a little over a year ago).**

 **I have no promises against doing that again, which I'm really sorry about, but I actually have chapter 3 most finished. It needs finishing touches still, but it should be out within a few weeks. Chapter 2 will come out shortly after this, roughly one to two weeks from now. Hopefully I can do better in 2018. It even sounds like it would be the perfect New Year's Resolution.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Out the Door**

"Hey, Clawhauser!" Judy greeted as she walked up to the front desk.

The cheetah—who was gingerly sipping on a soft drink and paying more attention to his phone than to his surroundings—perked up, taking the straw he had been using with him. Upon seeing the rabbit, he smiled and let the straw fall onto the desk. "Hey, Jude! How's it goin'?"

"Pretty good," she replied. "Just finished up another round of reports and have nothing to do for a few minutes. I figured I'd stop by to say 'hi' and see if anything's happening on the radios."

Clawhauser checked through each of them at a pace that would surprise most people. For someone who appeared to spend so little time actually doing his job, he was quite adept at it. "Mmm, doesn't seem like there's anything going on today. Slow day."

"Aw," Judy said, disappointed. "It's good that nothing is happening, but is it bad of me to wish for a little action?"

The chubby feline swatted his paw at her. "Naw. You're just the type to not sit still. I'm the same way!" The bunny simply smiled and nodded, not wanting to be rude by saying anything offensive. "I'm always waiting for the latest news on Gazelle." Now understanding what he meant, Judy agreed more wholeheartedly.

The two carried on casual conversation until movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She looked at the upper floors and zeroed in on the door to Chief Bogo's office. To her surprise—or perhaps the opposite—Nick stepped out. Clawhauser followed her line of sight, seeing the fox as well.

"What do you think he got yelled for this time?" the cheetah asked her.

"Could be anything," she responded. "I guess I'll go find out. See you around, Clawhauser!"

He waved goodbye to her as she departed. "Later, Jude!"

The rabbit dashed to the elevator on the bottom floor after watching Nick step inside on the upper floor and waited patiently for it to come down. Her ears twitched as a resonant ding emanated from the elevator.

"So, what'd you do this time?" she asked as the doors revealed her partner.

"Nothing," Nick answered, walking past her with his paws in his pockets.

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? I find that hard to believe."

"Well, believe it because it happened," he said without stopping to wait for her.

Judy caught up to him, matching his rather brisk pace. "Then what were you really in there for?"

"I asked for some time off."

"What? Why?"

"Goin' on a little fishing trip. That's all."

"A week?" the bunny repeated incredulously. "Jeez. What'd you have to give up for that? Did he need a carpet made from a fox's butt or something?"

"Nope. I just asked if I could get next week off and he said okay. No questions asked," Nick replied as they ended up back at their desks. He sat down in his chair and pulled himself closer to his computer. "You have next week off too, by the way. Starting Saturday."

She groaned. "Nick, you didn't have to ask for me. Unlike you, I'm perfectly fine with working. I love it, in fact. I—"

"I only asked for myself. Bogo told me to tell you that he was making you take a vacation 'whether the little bunny likes it or not.' His own words, I swear."

Judy's ears drooped down and she fell into her chair. "I guess I should have seen this coming." She glanced at her partner, who surprisingly began working on another report. Thinking back to what he said earlier, she asked curiously, "Fishing trip, huh? Where you going?"

"Someplace up north. You've probably never heard of it."

"Try me."

"Lake Caniapiscau."

Her face fell. "Oh."

While Nick continued to work on his report, Judy's thoughts gravitated towards her forced vacation time. She had seven full days to do whatever she wanted, but as she tried to come up with activities she could do, almost none of them were suitable for someone who was by themselves. She eyed Nick and considered his plans for a fishing trip. He hadn't mentioned if he was going with someone and it was someplace she had never heard of before, but…

"About that fishing trip of yours…" she said to her partner. "Are you going with someone? Finnick, maybe?"

"I was planning on going solo, but chances are that he'll be tagging along too; I do need a ride. And, no, you can't come with," he said, as if he somehow read her mind. He turned around and looked at her, which she realized was the first time since he had gotten out of the elevator. He quickly averted his gaze as he explained, "The place is kinda pred-heavy and it's not really any place for a, ah, cute little bunny."

"Okay," she said quietly. "I guess I could always visit my family. They're always wondering if I'm doing okay in the big city."

Nick pursed his lips, but this time he really looked at her. He rubbed his neck guiltily. "Actually, about that. I was kinda hoping someone could do some house-sitting for me. Well, it's more like apartment-sitting, but you get the idea."

"You want me to watch over your place while you're gone?" she asked in surprise.

"Well I was going to, but seeing as you're going to visit your parents, I might as well just ask mine. Though I was hoping I could avoid that since she'd probably just snoop through my stuff." He accompanied the last sentence with a grimace. "You know how mothers are."

"No, I can watch over your place for you. I don't mind."

The fox blinked. "Are you sure? I thought you wanted to see your parents."

"I do, but I call them every night to let them know how I'm doing. It'll be fine. Besides, I'd love to see where you live." Her eyes gleamed with curiosity as she spoke.

"You know, I wanted to ask you so someone wouldn't snoop around my stuff, but it looks like it's going to happen either way." Nick shook his head. "You're probably the lesser evil anyways. So starting Saturday?"

Judy nodded. "Just text me the time and place."

"Gotcha," he said before going back to his work. "And Judy?"

Caught off-guard by the fox using her first name, she responded, "Y-yes?"

"Thank you."

* * *

Nick walked down the street with his head downcast and his paws stuffed in his pockets. His loosely tied tie bounced against the plain white shirt he wore and his tail lagged behind him, just barely hovering above the concrete sidewalk beneath him. It was an old habit he fell into whenever he visited the less fortunate parts of town, especially at night. You needed to keep to yourself and be on alert so you didn't look like an easy mark. Changing out of his uniform after his shift certainly helped with keeping himself unnoticed. He'd have a small headache if the wrong people saw him walking down these streets.

While he had been down this way dozens of times in the past, there was considerably far less for him to lose then. And this time, his reason for coming this way was vastly different from the others. He was going to ask Finnick for a favor.

Had his partner known he was there, she might have guessed that he was going to see the smaller fox to touch up on the details of Nick's fishing trip. And she would have been right, that is, if what Nick had told her in the first place was the truth.

He wasn't going on a fishing trip to some bullshit place he quickly Zoogled. He was going to Pattermort to confront his deadbeat dad.

Nick balled his paws into tight fists as he recalled his exchange with the bunny earlier. He had been distant, and rightfully so as he was concerned with a much larger matter. But that didn't mean that it was fair to her. She deserved to know the truth. The bunny was, admittedly, his closest friend, but he was unable to tell her anything. He had multiple chances and each time he had driven her further away.

It was a necessary evil, he assured himself. He didn't want her getting involved with his past, he argued. This was his business and his business alone, he asserted. These were some of his justifications for keeping Judy in the dark. Deep down, though, he knew that each of those reasons were absolutely crap. His partner was strong. She would take on problems animals ten times her size would struggle with, even if doing so would put her into dangerous situations. Ultimately, this was the main reason why he chose to leave her out of this.

He had no clue what was going to happen when he got to Pattermort, so he was assuming the worst. The research he had done of the place beforehand hadn't helped that assumption. The city was known for attracting some more desperateanimals and with so many of them in one place, anything could happen.

No, he was going to do this by himself. Or at least as much as he could by himself.

Nick stopped in front of an alley. His eyes flicked from side to side, checking to see if anyone was watching him. His gaze briefly locked with a couple of questionable characters' across the street, but they looked away and went back to doing whatever they were doing. Satisfied, he dipped into the alley.

In it was a spray-painted van depicting a pair of foxes, one holding the other bridal style. The red fox could never remember what it was about—some sort of Incan or Mayan legend or whatever. He had never really cared about it in the first place. What he did care about was the van itself and, by extension, the owner of said van.

He approached the parked vehicle and rasped his knuckles against its backdoors. Nick immediately took a step back as they flew open and put on his best poker face.

"Who is it?" Finnick shouted as he raised a wooden baseball bat. Upon seeing his old partner, the fennec lowered the weapon for the slightest of instants and raised it back up menacingly. He narrowed his eyes at the taller fox. "What the _hell_ do you want, Wilde?"

Unfazed by the threat of the bat in Finnick's paws, Nick answered, "I need to borrow your van."

"Hell _fucking_ no."

Nick snorted and turned around. "I figured, but it was worth a shot. Whatever." He started to walk away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Finnick said, calling after the off-duty officer. "You're just gonna come all this way from your shitty little apartment to ask for my van and then walk away? Are you tryna hustle me, Wilde?"

Nick looked back with a deadpan expression. "My hustling days are over. I just needed a ride somewhere and I thought I'd try asking. See if our time as partners meant something, but I guess not."

"That's some gay ass shit right there," the fennec said. "Bein' a cop is turning you into a little bitch, you know that?"

He frowned at the smaller fox's offensive language. "Yeah, whatever, Finn. I'll just find someone else."

Finnick pursed his lips as he watched his old friend leave. "Yo," he called out again, prompting Nick to stop at the entrance of the alley. "Where you goin' anyways?"

"You ever hear about a place called 'Pattermort?'"

The hustler scratched his chin. "I think I might have heard of the place."

"Yeah, well, I need to check something out there."

The shorter fox gave him a look and leaned against his van. "If you want my ride, it's gonna cost you."

The officer folded his arms. "How much are we talking?"

"A favor," he replied.

Nick nodded. "Alright. Deal."

Finnick clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Not waiting to hear what the deal is? That's a rookie mistake, Wilde. You hafta be desperate as shit. But fine."

The red fox rolled his eyes and stuck his palm out. "Just give me the keys."

The desert colored fox barked out a laugh. "You fucking wish. Nobody drives my baby but me. I'm coming with."

"No, you're not."

"Then you ain't getting shit. Good luck finding another ride that won't squeal to your boss or that bunny cop." Finnick motioned to get back into his van.

Nick's previously expressionless face turned into one of shock from having his intentions so easily discovered. "How did you—"

"Why else would you ask me in the first place? I bet you coulda gotten some car from one of your cop buddies." The fennec smirked. "So what's it gonna be, Wilde?"

"Fine. Saturday. 3PM. Meet me at my apartment then." He stuck his paws back in his pockets and turned around, satisfied that his meeting with Finnick had gone as planned. "It was good to see you again, Finn. Later."

"Fuck you, too, Nick!" the fennec shouted. He signaled a rather rude gesture at the officer as he left.

* * *

Nick rummaged through the rest of his closet, trying to figure out what else he might need for the next week. He went to the duffel bag sitting atop his bed and sifted through it. There were only the essentials and a couple of situational items, but he couldn't think of anything else he would possibly need. He eyed the pair of letters resting next to the bag that was responsible for all this in the first place and frowned. He picked up the newer one, reading through it again before tossing it into his bag. He left the other where it was and let his gaze fall onto the small box he had brought back from his mother's.

Inside was a seemingly random assortment of items—some of which included an old polaroid with a date written on the back, a dirty old baseball, and a faded crayon drawing. Nick sunk a paw into the box and picked out the drawing. It depicted two figures, one bigger than the other, standing in front of a moderately sized store. It was difficult to tell exactly what the store was selling, but it was fairly easy to distinguish that the two figures were a pair of foxes. Above them and the entrance to the store were the words, 'Wilde and Son's.'

He crumpled up the drawing and tossed it back into the box with a snort. He picked up the whole box and went to his closet, sticking it precariously on the highest shelf, not wanting to see any of it. He had already gotten the information he needed from his mother's, so why did he feel compelled to take anything extra? All it did was resurface some unpleasant memories from his childhood.

The fox shut his eyes and took a deep breath, muttering to himself, "Never let them see that it gets to you."

He opened his eyes and checked the time on his phone. It was 2:27 in the afternoon. Judy was going to arrive soon and Finnick right after. His gaze was drawn back to his closet door for a moment and it gave him an idea. "Better hide whatever else I don't want Carrots to see," he said to himself.

Nick spent the next several minutes running around his apartment and grabbing the things he planned to keep out of sight. He was ferrying a stack of, ah, less than innocent magazines back to his room when he heard a sharp knock at his apartment door. The fox plopped them on the floor and went to answer the door after he closed the one leading to his room. He peeped through the peephole and spied a short, grey bunny standing outside with a bag over her shoulder, tapping her foot impatiently. He snorted and undid the locks and latches to his apartment that kept him safe.

"You really oughta stop that thing you do with the foot; it's a really nasty habit you got there, Carrots," he greeted, trying his best to keep up a jovial attitude. "I didn't even take that long to get to the door!"

"You know it's just a nervous tick I get sometimes, Nick," Judy replied. "And you really could have answered faster. I even sent you a text before I arrived."

Nick checked his phone and discovered that there was indeed an unread message from one Officer Hopps. He shrugged. "I was taking care of some things before I leave you with my apartment for the week. And what are you even nervous about? Are you afraid that I'm going to…eat you?!" He punctuated those last words with a flash of his teeth and a brandishing of his claws.

Judy didn't even react. "It's just that I've never been to your place before! You haven't invited me over in the past!"

"Well, you're here now, so you might as well step inside and get it over with."

The bunny did as he said and Nick shut the door behind her. She immediately began looking around, starting with the living area as that was what the fox's apartment first opened up to. A medium-sized flat screen TV sat on top of a wooden stand, positioned across from a brown leather couch. Between the two was a coffee table with a glass top and a small, black remote rested on it. A tall vase holding an assortment of multicolored branches stood in the corner. On one side of the room was the kitchen, separated by a countertop. To the other side of the room was a set of sliding glass doors leading to a small patio. Cream colored blinds hung in front of the doors, blocking much of the outside view, but Judy could make out some of the plants her partner had mentioned the other day.

Her jaw dropped. "You live _here_?"

Nick raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"It's just—it's so nice!"

"Yeah, I guess," he said offhandedly. "You sound kinda shocked. I'm a little insulted, Fluff."

"I'm sorry, but how did you afford all this? This must have cost you a fortune!"

"If you don't know the right people, then sure. My mom is friends with the landlady, so she's a little nice with the rent. I help her out every now and then too, so you know," Nick explained. "A lot of this stuff was actually going to be thrown out at some point or another. I got a good deal on them." He gestured for her to follow him. "Come on. I'll show you the kitchen."

In it, there was a fridge, an oven, a stove, a sink and a few cabinets. "So, here's where I make my meals. I have a few snacks in the cabinets. You're free to grab whatever you like, but I'm not sure how much you'd like them. You can cook too, if you want. There are some pots underneath the sink. And if you need to use the bathroom, it's just down the hall to your right. While I'm away, you can hang out on the couch or whatever and watch TV; it's up to you. The only thing I need you to do is to water the plants which are out on the patio."

"That sounds pretty easy."

"And if you don't mind doing some cleaning…" Nick added, looking away innocently.

"Ha! You wish," Judy said. "Is that all? Anything else I should know?"

"Other than the fact that my room is absolutely off-limits, nope."

"Do you not want me to see your room?" she asked curiously. "I won't judge you if you have anything particularly embarrassing hidden away in there and I promise I won't say anything to anyone down at the precinct."

"As much as I would like to believe that, no. Not taking any chances," he said, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Just one little peek won't hurt," she said, pinching her fingers together. "I won't laugh if—"

Judy's words were interrupted by a car horn and blaring hip-hop music.

"And that's Finnick," Nick said. He went to his bedroom and grabbed his bag, all the while making sure that his partner was unable to see a thing. He came back out with it in paw and walked to the door of his apartment after locking the door to his room.

As the fox stepped out of his home, Judy called after him, "Is that all you'll be taking? Where's your fishing gear?"

"Finnick's got everything in his van! See ya in a week, Carrots!" he replied without looking back. The door shut behind him and Judy was left alone.

The bunny huffed and folded her arms. "And he didn't even wait for me to say goodbye. Typical." Her eyes wandered around Nick's living room and then to the TV. She checked her phone to see if she had any errands to run, but her schedule was free for the rest of the day. She walked over to the couch and picked up the remote. "I guess I'll see what's on."

* * *

Judy stabbed a fork into her salad and took a bite as she watched some Netflix from Nick's television. She found herself looking around often despite having spent the last several hours in the 'fox's den' as she had dubbed it. She would never have imagined that he was living so well off. That wasn't to say that she expected him to live in some ditch somewhere, but she was still impressed. It was a huge upgrade over her own apartment, and that was probably why she was having her dinner here.

Suddenly, her phone began to ring. She set her bowl down and picked it up, expecting the call to be Nick checking up on her. Instead it was her parents. She briefly checked the time. It was half past ten. Alarm spread across her face as she realized that she had forgotten to call them at the usual time. She paused her show and prepared a smile as she hit the 'answer' button.

"Hey, guys! What's going on?" she said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, thank goodness! You picked up!" her mother cried as the screen displayed her parents on the video feed.

"She's aliveeee!" her father shouted.

Judy groaned at her parents' reactions. "Guys, of course I'm fine. I just lost track of the time is all. I'm sorry."

"Lost track of time doing what?" Bonnie questioned. The older bunny squinted at her phone. "And just where are you anyways? You're not at your apartment."

"I'm at a friend's," Judy answered. "I'm—"

"A friend's?" her father interrupted. His eyes darted back and forth, trying to see more of Nick's apartment. "What sort of friend? Do we know her?"

"It's Nick's place. He—"

"You mean the _fox_? What are you doing at his place for?"

"Yeah, Judy. Why are you at his place? I know you two are partners and all, but that's just work, right?" her mother asked.

"There better not be any funny business between you two…"

The off-duty officer threw her paws up. "We're just _friends_! There's _nothing_ between us! You two always overreact!"

Bonnie gave her a motherly look. "We just trying to look after you. We worry."

"And just to clarify," her dad interjected, "you two are just friends. F-r-i-e-n-d-s? Nothing more? Because a relationship between a bunny and a fox is just too unnatura—"

"Stu, stop it!" Bonnie said, shooting her husband a stern glare.

"Sorry," he muttered.

Judy sighed. "Yes, we're only friends. And he asked me to house-sit for him. He's not even here right now," she explained.

"Well that's nice of you, Jude," Stu said calmly. "So how was your day?"

"It was good. Bogo actually forced me on a week-long vacation and today was the first day. I have some loose plans for the rest of the week, but I'm pretty much free."

"That's great, honey," her mom said. "You really should take breaks more often. You're going to overwork yourself."

"I know, I know. It's just that being a cop is just so—"

A noticeable thump echoed down the hall, catching Judy's attention. "Uh, give me a sec, guys. I think something fell over. I need to check it out." She set her phone on the couch and walked towards the source of the sound.

"Is the fox actually hiding somewhere there, Jude? Did you lie to—"

"Stu!"

The bunny ignored that last comment and stopped in front of Nick's bedroom door. She could have sworn that the noise had come from inside. The door was still locked from earlier, but it would be very poor of her as a housesitter to let this mystery go unchecked. Why, if something fell over and caused a mess, surely she should help clean it up. He did ask her to do some cleaning, after all.

Judy brandished a spare bobby pin she kept on her person and broke it in half. She bent the end of one piece at a 90-degree angle, and bent the end of the other slightly. She stuck the two pieces in the lock, using the L-hooked piece to create some tension while using the other to lift the lock pins into place. After some fidgeting, the door knob finally turned and the door swung open.

She took a moment to admire her work and smirked at the irony. "You'd think that someone like him would have better locks than this."

She stuck her makeshift lockpicking set into her pocket and peered inside. It was dark, as expected, and she felt around for a light switch. Her fingers brushed against one and she flicked it upwards. The room illuminated and the first thing Judy saw was a pile of magazines featuring vixens on their covers. She examined it briefly before realizing exactly what they were and diverted her gaze elsewhere, her cheeks burning. "I guess now I know why he wanted me to stay out of his room," she muttered to herself.

The bunny reached for the door and was about to lock it again when she remembered why she had broken into his room. She scanned the area for something that looked out of place, doing her best to ignore the stack of magazines, but there was one problem. She had no idea what his room normally looked like. There several articles of clothing strewn across the floor, his bed was unmade, and his closet door was ajar. For all she knew, he was always this messy.

Judy stepped around the obstacles scattered across the floor, searching for what had toppled over. She craned her head around the closet door and found a small box lying on the floor with what she guessed to be its contents spilled out around it. She picked up the box and the items nearby, putting them back in one by one.

"What is this stuff?" she asked out loud as she stowed away an old baseball. The name 'Dan Howland' was penned in faded ink across its leathery surface. She shrugged and grabbed the next item, an old photograph of two foxes—a young kit and his father. The kit had a wide grin on his muzzle while the older fox wore a more reserved smile, but it was clear how happy the two were. The older fox was also dressed in a neatly pressed, black business suit, a checkered shirt, and a tie of a color Judy couldn't figure out. The photo was in black and white. She flipped it over. Something was written on the back.

"06-17-90," she read. She looked at the older fox again then to the kit. She studied their expressions. "Is…this Nick and his dad? I wonder why he never mentioned him before."

She set the photo down in the box, being extra careful to not damage it. She continued this for everything else that seemed to belong in the box and when she was finished, she got up and shoved it all into the closet. There was no sense in having it someplace else where it could fall again. She closed the closet door and turned to leave the room, but stopped as her foot brushed against something—a crumpled up piece of paper.

Judy unfolded the paper and blinked in surprise upon seeing a drawing of two foxes standing in front of a shop. There was no doubt that it was done by a young child, possibly by even Nick himself from all those years ago. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the words 'Wilde and Son's' written above the doorway to the store. She stared at it uncomprehendingly. Why was something like this crumpled up like a piece of trash?

She brought it over to the box and added it to the rest of the collection. She stepped out of Nick's room and glanced at the box for another second before closing the door behind her, not bothering to lock it. As she walked back to his couch, a series of questions sprung up in her mind on top of the ones she already had. Where did the things in the box come from? How long had Nick had them for? What did they all mean?

Judy didn't know the answers to any of those questions, but she had a whole week to find out.

* * *

 **For those of you who might remember, the main change here is that there's an extra first part. Disregard the fact that the scene, before it was rewritten, was part of chapter one. There are some minor edits throughout the rest of it to try to keep it consistent. If you find any errors, please let me know.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Getting the Ball Rolling**

" _Come on, come on!" a young Nick cried as he tugged at the larger paw holding his. He pointed to a section of the stadium's bleachers further down from where they currently were with a rugged baseball glove. "Our seats are right over there!"_

 _The kit wriggled out from the grip of the older fox that had been holding onto him and pranced down the stairs. The adult chuckled and called out, "Don't run too far ahead, Nick!"_

" _The seats were just right here," the seven-year-old fox replied as the grown one caught up. The former literally jumped into his chair while the latter eased himself in. Nick bounced up and down energetically as he studied the baseball field in front of them. "Hey, dad. Who do you think they're going to send out first?"_

" _You mean for the Keepers?" his father asked. Nick nodded. The adult male rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, if I had to guess, it would probably be Adam Grizz."_

 _Nick looked at his father skeptically. "What, no way! Obviously, they're going to send out Daniel Howland. He's their best batter!"_

" _Maybe you're right. You do know these things better than I do, son."_

" _Well duh. You need to study more. I can let you borrow some of my baseball cards if you want!"_

 _Nick's dad laughed. "You really mean that?"_

" _Yeah, but later though. We still need to watch the game today first! I can't wait!"_

" _You do realize that it isn't going to start for a little while, though, right?" his father asked as his eyes glazed over hundreds of still empty seats. "You were the one who suggested we come early."_

 _Nick's cheeks flushed and he looked away, embarrassed. "W-well, you never know what could happen. I just wanted to make sure we got our seats."_

" _I'm just teasing, kiddo." His dad laughed again and ruffled the fur on top of his head, prompting Nick to smile widely._

* * *

A grown up Nick stared out the passenger side window of Finnick's van with his chin resting atop his paw, supported by his elbow which was propped up against the inside of the door. He watched stretches of uninteresting and unchanging land whiz by at speeds several miles above the speed limit.

It had been his job just a few days prior to stop animals much like the one next to him from breaking the law, but now? He couldn't care less. He was off the clock and they were far from Zootopia. They even still had a couple hundred miles to go. It would be a while until he would start caring again.

The thing that did bother him, though, was the fact that he had nothing to do. He was bored out of his mind. The last day or so was spent doing exactly this—him mindlessly gazing out at absolutely nothing and Finnick—

"Fucking piece of shit!"

He was being Finnick.

The red fox heard a swift thump—the sound of paw striking against metal. He lazily looked over to the fennec who had one paw on the wheel and the other on the knobs of the van's radio. A scowl lined Finnick's muzzle as he fiddled with the piece of technology. Static emanated from the radio's speakers with hints of a broadcast fading in and out. The smaller fox's eyes danced between the road and the panel the radio was mounted on, eventually leaning more towards the latter.

Nick might have been more worried had there been at least one other vehicle nearby or if there was a turn they needed to make, but the road they were on was as straight as an arrow and as empty as a desert. Hell, they probably _were_ in a desert. Dusty yellow sand and dirt was on either side of them and quite a bit of it escaped onto the asphalt in front of them.

Suddenly, the van jerked to one side as Finnick's paw slipped, causing Nick to stumble. Once he recovered, Nick glanced at his partner again. "You might want to focus a little more on that radio of yours, Finn," he said dryly.

"Up yours," the fennec replied.

"What are you even trying to listen to anyways?" Nick asked.

"I got some good money on a ball game," Finnick answered. "I just needa get this stupid thing working and then I can find out how much I made."

"Any chance you don't get that radio working?" Nick said, immediately turned off by the mention of the sport.

"It's my radio; I can listen to whatever the hell I want. If you got a problem with it, piss off."

Nick rolled his eyes. _Classic Finn_. "I don't get why so many animals get excited over a stupid game; someone hits a ball and they start running around. What's so great about that?"

"What's great is that there's a lot of money to be made," Finnick argued as he continued to tinker with the radio. "I still don't get why you hate it so much. We woulda been rich from the scams we coulda pulled off if you weren't such a bitch about it."

"We always did well enough without having to dip down to the levels of every other amateur out there. Ticket scalping, really?"

"It's a nice, clean scam that's easy to pull off. We—oh, damn finally. Christ."

The radio roared to life, playing a clear transmission.

"— _Westwing Fliers with two on first and second. With two outs on the board, Dromaius will be hard-pressed to get a hit and keep racking up those points for his team, but Mulee from the Zootopia Keepers is looking to strike him out."_

Nick suppressed the groan that would have otherwise escaped from his muzzle and pinned his ears to his head. As bored as he was, he wasn't desperate enough to want to listen to a game of baseball—he still had his pride. But that didn't mean anything if Finnick insisted on listening to the broadcast.

Nick stuck a paw into his pants pocket and fished out his phone and a pair of earbuds. He carefully stuck each bud into his ears and flipped through the different albums he had saved on the device, eventually hitting the bottom of the list. The red fox sighed and hit the random button.

With his ears now occupied and his eyes without anything interesting to look at, Nick resigned to sitting back and shutting his eyes until their next stop.

An hour later, he opened them to see that nothing had changed. They were still on the same stretch of road in the same stretch of land. His earbuds had fallen onto his lap and after checking his phone, it seemed that his device had paused the music somehow.

" _Byrd's readying the pitch and cocks his wing! And there it goes!"_

And to his disdain, the baseball game was still going. He glanced to his left to see Finnick almost out of his seat listening to the cast. "Come ooooon, baby!"

" _It connects and he sends it flying! It's going, going, and it's—"_

"Gone," the red fox finished as he reached forward to shut off the radio.

The fennec gave his former partner a deadpan glare. "Screw you, Nick," he said softly, turning the radio back on.

Nick rolled his eyes. _It's just a stupid game. Who cares._

"Damn it all to hell," Finnick cursed a moment later.

"Did your team lose?" Nick asked.

"Tch. This is why you don't bet on the Keepers. Those guys were never good after Grizz left."

"Then why bet on them if they were going to lose? You got too greedy again, Finn. This is what happens when you don't have me around."

"And if you were still around, we woulda had some serious bank!" Finnick replied. "I'm still waiting for you to give me the details on that inside job of yours."

"I've told you a thousand times already; the whole officer gig isn't another scam."

"Yeah, yeah. We passed a sign ten minutes ago, by the way. We'll be at the next stop in about two hours or so."

Nick propped up his head on his elbow. "So what is that? A third of the way there? Looks like we'll be there in another two days."

"I just hope it's not going to be another two days of you bein' a bitch and messin' with my radio."

Nick snorted and said, "You know you love me."

"Fuck you."

* * *

Judy absentmindedly played around with the phone in her pocket as she walked down the street. Her eyes glossed over the street signs, directing her to the address of the Ottertons' flower shop. Passing by an electronics store, the bunny pulled out her phone and checked the time.

It was 12:18.

She was right on schedule. At this rate, she would arrive just a few minutes before what she and Mrs. Otterton had agreed upon earlier. Judy considered herself quite fortunate in being able to arrange a lunch date with the two otters on such short notice. Had she not arranged any plans for today, the bunny would have spent an unhealthy number of hours dwelling upon the discovery she had made on the night of Nick's departure. As much as she didn't want to admit it, the primary reason for her lunch with the Ottertons was to distract her from what she had found. Of course, this wasn't to say that she didn't want to catch up with them—she very much wanted to know how Emmitt Jr. and young Lucas were doing—but she couldn't deny that she was using them for her own selfish reasons, if only a little.

Soon enough, Judy found herself in front of the Ottertons' flower shop. It was simple, two-story building with the lower floor acting as the storefront and the upper floor as a living space. The first floor was decorated expertly with various flora, mesmerizing passing animals with their visual allure and inviting them to take a closer look. Though the off-duty officer had every intention of going in anyways, the flowers drew her in nonetheless. Tempted, Judy stopped and sniffed one of the flowers; her nose was filled with a light and refreshing fragrance.

"I see you're enjoying the hollyhocks, Officer Hopps," Mr. Otterton said as he approached her. He glanced at a wall mounted clock behind him and added, "Though I guess you do have a few minutes to spare before lunch starts."

"I didn't want to be late," the bunny replied. "And please, Mr. Otterton, call me Judy."

"Only if you call me Emmitt!" he said cheerfully.

Judy nodded in agreement and the otter motioned for her to step inside. He closed the door behind them, hanging up an 'out for lunch' sign. The bunny looked around, but saw no one else. The only audible sounds belonged to a small television in the corner running some sort of shampoo commercial. She asked the shopkeeper, "Where's your wife?"

"Octavia's upstairs getting the finishing touches for our meal," Otterton answered. He started up some nearby stairs, gesturing for her to follow. "I hope you're as excited as I am for her cooking."

"Judy!" Mrs. Otterton greeted as the pair entered the second floor. She walked up to the bunny and spread her arms apart for a welcoming hug. "It's great to see you!"

"You too!" Judy said, returning the gesture. Once they separated, she spied the lunch the female otter had prepared for them. A couple servings of freshly cooked salmon covered in a dark brown sauce rested upon two plates for the married couple and a bowl containing dark greens mixed with chopped carrots sat on top of a short table nearby. The trio made their way over and the rabbit couldn't help but marvel at the sight and smell of the food.

"Wow, this looks delicious!"

Emmitt wrapped an arm around his wife. "That's my Octavia! Her meals are just to die for!" He placed a paw over his belly and grinned. "They're the reason I'm putting on all these extra pounds!"

"Ah, yes, my cooking is why you've been gaining all that weight and not the frequent snacks you've been sneaking when you think I'm not looking," the female otter said, poking her husband in the side. She snickered at his not-so-masculine reaction and turned to Judy. "Anyways, I hope I got your lunch right. I did a little researching, but I'm still not very familiar with rabbit diets…"

"You got everything right," Judy assured her. She pulled up a chair and sat down, mirroring the Ottertons. When settled, Judy picked up a fork resting next to her bowl and dug in.

"So, how is it?" Mrs. Otterton asked as she took a bite of her own dish.

"It's great," Judy responded after swallowing a mouthful. "It's so fresh; where did you get the ingredients for the salad?"

"There's a local grocery just down the street," Emmitt answered. "We actually get a lot of our food from there. It's very convenient."

"Yeah, I can imagine. The closest store to my apartment is almost half a mile away." Judy's eyes wandered around, noting how open it was. The kitchen and the living room weren't divided by any walls—much like how Nick's apartment was—and the transition between the two was smooth. A number of small plants complemented the furnishings they had and several family photos hung from one of the walls. "Your home is very lovely too."

"Thank you," Mrs. Otterton replied. "We were lucky to find this place when we did. I was pregnant with our first child—Emmitt Jr.—and at the time, our home was very cramped. But by some miracle, we were able to purchase the whole building and move in before I even gave birth!"

"That is lucky," Judy commented. "I probably should look to move out of my own apartment. Something like this would be nice."

"If we come across anything, we'll let you know," she said.

While the two females lightly chatted, the bunny couldn't help but notice the lone male glancing between them and a nearby clock. Judy wasn't the only one to notice as Mrs. Otterton turned to face her husband.

"Is something wrong, Emmitt? You keep looking at the clock."

"Well, uh," he began sheepishly, "there's actually a game going on right now between the _Zootopia Keepers_ and the _Westwing Fliers_. I was watching a bit of it on the television downstairs."

His wife groaned. "It's just one game, Emmitt! You can watch that later! We have a guest over right now!" She offered Judy an apologetic sigh. "I'm so sorry."

Judy shook her head. "There's nothing to apologize for," she said. Then she turned to Mr. Otterton. "You're a fan?"

"You bet!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, please don't get him started," his mate said half-jokingly.

"What's wrong with wanting to talk about a little baseball?" he asked. "Besides, it's not like I ever get to talk about it with anyone—Emmitt Jr. isn't into sports and Lucas only cares about soccer!"

"I thought you said you didn't care that Lucas liked soccer more than baseball!"

"I don't! I am very supportive of what my boys want to do!" Emmitt argued. His wife looked at him unconvinced. "Okay, I admit that I am a _little_ disappointed that my two sons don't share the same interests as me. What kind of father isn't?"

Mrs. Otterton sighed and shook her head. "Do you see what I have to put up with?" she said to Judy, who laughed.

The male otter took a deep breath to calm himself. "Sorry. I do get a teensy bit excited when I finally find someone I can talk to about baseball. Are you also a fan?"

Judy shook her head. "No, but…" Her words trailed off as her thoughts drifted back to the box of Nick's mysterious belongings.

"Was there something you wanted to know about baseball?" Otterton asked.

She hesitated. If Mr. Otterton was as big of a fan of baseball as he said he was, there was the possibility that he could identify one of the objects she had found near Nick's closet. She could start piecing together what all of it was and what each item meant. But it wasn't her place to be snooping around Nick's things in the first place. Despite all the trust the fox put in her, all of it would be thrown away the instant she chose to pursue the matter further. And it wouldn't be the first time he'd lose faith in her either.

She remembered how easy it was to destroy their friendship back when she had spoken at that press conference and how difficult it was to build it back up after. Granted, her apology was rather quick, but building up the strength and courage to get to that point had been one of the biggest challenges in her life. And should it happen again, she couldn't imagine it being any easier. In fact, it would probably be harder—impossible even—to mend their friendship a second time.

Of course, that was if he found out in the first place.

And that final, seemingly innocent thought was all that was needed. Recalling the name she had seen on Nick's old baseball, she asked. "Does the name 'Dan Howland' ring a bell?"

"'Dan Howland'"? the florist repeated enthusiastically. "Any fan of the Keepers worth his salt could tell you anything and everything about Dan Howland!"

Seeing the otter's reaction over the mention of the name caused Judy's ears to perk up. "So you know him then?"

"Of course! I was a huge fan when I was a kid! Everyone was!" But then whatever excitement he had disappeared. He sighed. "Of course, that was back then. He retired sometime around 1993." Otterton lowered his head and solemnly placed a paw over his heart. "Was a sad day for all Keepers fans; the team hasn't been the same since."

Judy's ears drooped slightly. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. I just found an old baseball the other day and was wondering where it was from. It had his signature on it and—"

Light filled Emmitt's eyes. "You have something signed by him?" he asked ecstatically. "That old wolf hardly ever signed anything! If you can bring it around, I could probably find out for you!"

"R-really?" the bunny asked surprised.

"Just stop on by whenever you can and I'll get back to you as soon as possible!"

Judy fell back into her seat. She couldn't believe her luck. Somehow, she had managed to find someone who not only knew who Dan Howland was, but could also tell her the exact information she needed to piece together the puzzle of Nick's past.

* * *

Judy flipped the nearby light switch on and illuminated her surroundings. Of course, nothing had changed from the last time she had barged in. The dirty magazines in Nick's room were still lewd, his bed was still unmade, and she still felt as guilty as she did before, if not more so. Had she lingered on that feeling of betrayal, perhaps it would have been enough to persuade her to turn around.

It wasn't too late to back out and apologize when she could, but Judy already took a few steps towards Nick's closet door. This time, she didn't hesitate and swiftly opened it. Within moments, she stared at a faded signature on the side of an old baseball. It read 'Dan Howland' in blue swirling letters. There was nothing else besides a bit of dirt rubbed onto its leathery surface.

"What am I doing?" she muttered to herself. "Since when do friends snoop through each other's things? If our roles were switched, he wouldn't be doing any of this."

Sighing, she placed the ball back into the box and pulled out her phone. She brought up the messaging app and tapped on the conversation she had with Mr. Otterton.

 _Hey Emmitt. Turns out I couldn't get the ball. Sorry about that._

Judy brooded over the text, hesitating to press the send button. It would have been easy. Send the text and forget about the whole thing. Or she could just wait until Nick got back and she could ask him directly. Instead, she chose to fall back onto her partner's empty bed with a cry of frustration. Her grip on her phone loosened and she let go of it, letting it bounce once off Nick's mattress and onto the floor.

She groaned at her own carelessness and begrudgingly got up. She bent over to pick up her phone, but noticed a letter sitting atop Nick's nightstand.

 _Dear Nick,_

 _How are you doing, bud? I know it's been a little while since my last letter, but I haven't forgotten about you or your mom. Things have gotten a little busy here with the holiday season coming up._

 _Speaking of holidays, I've been working on a little something for you. If it doesn't come in time for Christmas, it'll be there by New Year's. I think you'll like it. I don't want to spoil the surprise, but here's a hint: you can find it in Suitopia._

 _I'm sorry I can't spend the holidays with you two this year, but next year we'll spend it together. I promise I won't let you down, Nick._

 _Love you,_

 _Dad_

The bunny read through it two more times before even realized that she had picked it up. Confusion, rather than guilt, was now the dominant feeling for Judy as she recalled crumpled up drawing from Nick's box of things. She retrieved the drawing and looked at it again. Seeing the two foxes prompted her to also grab the photo. It was obvious now that she got a good look at everything—the box and its contents were all somehow related to Nick and his father.

Her partner had never brought up the topic of his dad, only his mother. But armed with all the evidence in front of her, she couldn't make sense of it. These were all good memories, so why were they all packed up to be so readily forgotten? The resolve she had from the other night to learn more about Nick and his past returned. She grabbed her phone and erased her previous text, replacing it with a new one.

 _I got the ball. I can stop by later tomorrow to hand it off._

She clicked send and exited Nick's room with the old baseball in tow.

* * *

 **I'm not dead! And I finally managed to get chapter 3 out! Long story short, but same one as always: I'm pretty busy with school. Especially right now. I had most of this written for a while, but only had time to finish it recently. For now, there probably won't be anything until at least after March. Even then, I'm still not sure when I'll get something out.**

 **Sorry to those of you who are left waiting, but thank you to everyone who keeps reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A Day to Remember**

Nick stepped out of the van, his paws meeting cool asphalt. He stretched his arms and legs, groaning in relief as his joints popped. He cracked his back as he observed their rest stop for the night—a cheap looking motel that also happened to have a bar next to it. His former partner made a beeline for the bar's entrance, delegating the room booking to Nick.

The red fox dug out an ID and readied some cash as he pushed through the motel office door. An older looking ocelot with a thin pair of reading glasses stood behind a standard oaken desk and greeted Nick as he stepped inside.

"Hello, are you looking to stay the night?" he asked. "Or perhaps longer?"

"Just the one night. How much?"

"Is 40 dollars agreeable to you?"

Nick nodded and thumbed out the appropriate bills. He placed them along with his ID onto the desk. The ocelot raised a curious brow as he picked up the money. Noticing the feline's expression, the canine asked, "Is there something wrong?"

The motel manager shook his head. "No, it's just that I don't often see Zootopian currency around these parts."

Nick cursed underneath his breath. He had forgotten about different types of currency. He'd have to swap out some of his money once he got to Pattermort. "Does that mean that I have to find some sort of currency exchanger or something?"

"No, Zootopian currency is fine," the cat replied. He removed a pair of bills from the amount Nick had given him and slid them back towards the fox. "The currency here isn't as strong as the one used in the city. Speaking of which, you're a long ways away from there aren't you?"

"Yeah, and I'll be going further." Fortunately, the ocelot got the message and didn't pursue the matter anymore. Nick pocketed the extra money and began signing a form that the ocelot procured from behind the desk. Once finished, the former con artist pushed it back and received a key in return. The tag attached to it read, '954'.

"Go around the corner to your right and your room will be three doors down," the manager said. "Have a nice night."

The fox grunted and exited the office, taking a left towards the bar. As he approached the door, he heard the muffled sound of low-beat music. The smell of smoke and alcohol assaulted his nose when he went inside, but it hardly bothered him. He had plenty of experience with places like this before in his past. The dim lighting and hushed conversations were all too familiar.

His eyes scanned across the room, spying Finnick's sandy coat in front of the bar. He took up an empty seat next to the desert fox and said, "Our room's 954." Finnick's response was simply tilting a bottle of cheap beer into his mouth. Deciding to follow his example, Nick raised a paw for the bartender's attention. "Got any bourbon?"

The bartender, a thin red wolf, looked up from the glass he was cleaning. "German okay?"

"Sure."

The wolf pulled out a different glass and a bottle off the shelf behind him. "You've got good taste," he said, pouring the drink. A thin smile was spread across his lips. "This stuff is straight from the city."

Nick slid some money over to him as he placed the drink in front of the fox. The wolf eyed him much like the motel manager had, no doubt for the same reasons. At the very least, he didn't try to bother Nick with any conversation, allowing the off-duty officer to drink in peace. He took a sip, letting the smooth liquid roll over his tongue before swallowing.

It tasted like crap.

"Something wrong?" the wolf asked.

"No," he replied as he took another swig. This time, he let the alcohol fall straight down his throat, not wanting to entertain the idea of tasting it anymore. He couldn't understand why the bartender seemed to have a high opinion of the stuff; the cheapest drinks from the seediest bars back home were better than this.

Maybe that was why he disliked it; he wasn't home. He was hundreds of miles away from the place. And counting.

But he knew that that alone wasn't enough to ruin things. No, it was the thought of his deadbeat dad that soured his mood and his drink. Nick tensed his fingers around his glass and poured some more alcohol into his mouth. The old fox was better off dead, but judging from the letters Nick got, he was still out there and his only clue was some guy in Pattermort. If he was lucky, Nick would find his sorry excuse for a father within minutes of arriving at the city and he'd be able to give him a piece of his mind—and maybe a bit of the bat Finnick kept in his van.

Ultimately, he couldn't pin all the blame on his old man. As much as Nick loathed to admit it, it was his own fault too. He had been so young and naïve. He trusted that his dad would stay in the picture, believed that his dad was different from the rest, and thought that his dad wouldn't be another stereotypical tod. His fellow classmates in school had told him otherwise, but he had stupidly ignored their words. If only he hadn't.

Loving his father had been the very first scam he'd ever been subjected to. And he learned from it—he had learned to never blindly trust another animal. That was probably why Judy's words from the press conference had cut through him so heavily. At least she had an excuse, though; she was just a dumb bunny.

As the bourbon slowly disappeared, a mildly disheveled vixen slid up into the empty spot beside him.

"Hey there, handsome," she greeted in sultry undertones. "That's an awfully mean face you're makin', but how about I change that for you, hmm?"

Realizing that he had started showing off some of his emotions, he forced himself to relax. "Not interested," Nick deadpanned.

"Don't be like that. It won't cost you a cent," she cooed. She smirked and then added, "Though it might cost you your night."

She placed a sensual paw on his shoulder, but he just shrugged it off. "Find someone else to waste your time on."

The vixen pouted before trancing off. "Fine. Your loss, stud. But if you ever change your mind, I'll be around…"

Nick only scoffed and rolled his eyes. Finnick, however, looked between him and the departing female, eventually staring at the male fox in disbelief. "The hell is wrong with you?" the desert fox barked. "Why would you let a perfectly good piece of tail walk away like that?"

Nick paused, holding up a two-thirds empty glass up to his lips. "Unlike you, Finn, I've got standards. Besides, I'm not in the mood for a night of regret."

"Tch. If you're not gonna have a go at her, I will," he replied, hopping off his seat. Finnick left Nick's field of vision, but the red fox could still hear everything that followed.

"Hey, babe. You still lookin' for a good time?"

"Sorry, but I've got standards. I'm not in the mood for a 'night of regret.' This 'piece of tail' has got better things to do."

Nick snorted in mild amusement as his shorter friend returned noticeably peeved. "Fuck you," was the only thing Finnick had to say before resuming his drinking.

The off-duty officer continued to sip on his bourbon and looked around the bar some more. The only interesting thing was a badger and a mongoose talking about…

"Ha, I told you that the Fliers would win. The Keepers haven't been any good since Grizz. Now pay up."

"Ugh, Dromaius just got a lucky hit in."

Baseball. Of course. That was his cue to room up for the night. He downed the rest of his alcohol and got up. "I'm heading in," he said, slipping Finnick a spare key. As he pulled the door open, he heard one final exchange from the badger-mongoose pair.

"What I would give for the good ol' days of the Keepers."

"Please, they haven't been any good in over 20 years."

Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets, bracing himself as a cool brush of night air enveloped him. "'Over 20 years,' huh?" he repeated to himself.

* * *

" _Alright, let's see what we got here…" Nick's dad said. The two foxes scanned the souvenir stalls in front of them, looking for something to remember the game with._

 _Nick's young eyes darted between baseball bats to jerseys, grinning all the while. Getting any one of them would be the best thing ever. His gaze landed on a baseball glove on the far left. The leather looked shiny and new, a stark contrast to the worn, beat-up material of the one he was currently wearing. "How about that?" he said, pointing. He looked up at his dad hopefully._

 _The older fox wore a strange expression the younger one couldn't quite make out. His response took a little longer than he expected too. "You've already got a glove, don't you, Nick? Maybe you can get something else."_

" _Yeah, I guess…" Nick said, deflated. "What about—"_

 _He felt his father tug on his arm, leading him to a different booth. "That stall might have something. Come on."_

 _The kit stretched out a small paw towards the new glove before dropping it and following his father. They spent the next several minutes drifting from booth to booth, never buying anything despite Nick finding something he'd like at each one. After looking through each stall, the pair of foxes stood empty-pawed in a deserted corner of the stadium._

 _His dad knelt down beside him and rested a paw on his head. "Sorry, son. It doesn't look like we can get you that souvenir today." The older male wrapped his son in a short embrace and offered him a smile. "We'll get something next time, okay?"_

 _Nick did his best to suppress his disappointment and reminded himself that his dad still managed to get tickets to see his favorite team. He returned the hug. "Okay. Thanks for taking me to the game today, dad."_

 _His father beamed proudly at him. "You're welcome, sport. Now let's get home before your mother starts worrying."_

 _The two began walking towards the exit when a deep voice called out to them. "Hey! You two foxes stop right there!"_

 _Nick's ears perked up, recognized the owner of the voice. He turned around swiftly, mirroring his father. His eyes became saucers as he realized that_ the _Dan Howland was not only several feet away, but was also talking to them. He couldn't contain his excitement. "Dad, look! It's Dan Howland!"_

 _The wolf for the Zootopia Keepers smirked. "Heh. You a fan, kiddo?"_

" _I'm like your biggest fan!"_

" _I thought so." The larger canid looked from Nick to his father. "You guys just gonna walk away without a souvenir?"_

" _We—" Nick started, but his dad cut him off._

" _Ah, well, nothing fit quite right for the occasion, you know?" The adult fox tugged on the kit's arm, leading them to the exit. "We should get going."_

"' _Nothing quite right for the occasion,' huh?" the athlete repeated. "How about a baseball signed by yours truly?"_

" _You don't have to—" This time, it was Nick who cut his father off._

" _That'd be so cool!" Nick shouted._

 _Howland removed a pen and a baseball from his pockets. He began to write something across the ball's surface. "What's your name?"_

" _It's Nick!"_

 _He tossed the ball to the kit, who caught it in his glove. "Well, Nick, make sure you stay in school and make your father proud, alright?"_

 _Nick nodded vigorously while his dad looked at the star with his mouth agape. "H-how much do—"_

" _Free of charge. My dad was the same way when I was younger. Just keep doing whatever you're doing." The baseball player saluted the pair goodbye. "Later!"_

 _Once the wolf left, Nick looked up as his dad in amazement. "I can't wait to tell my friends!"_

 _His father grinned down at him. "Wait until your mother finds out. She'll be ecstatic. Now let's go. She's waiting for us."_

Judy chuckled as she read the text Mr. Otterton sent her.

 _OMG I can't believe you have a baseball signed by Dan Howland‼ I mean I guess I have it now though but I promise I'll be careful!_

* * *

She idly wondered if the florist would try to keep it somehow. She quickly ruled out that possibility as the otter was far too kind to do something like that. Still, she was a little worried that something might happen to the baseball. If it was as valuable as Otterton made it out to be, she didn't think she could ever make it up to Nick if she had lost it. She already had the task of explaining to him when he returned why she had given it out to someone else in the first place.

Or why she had his box of secrets, as she had dubbed them, right next to her on the couch.

What was she going to tell him anyways? 'Hey, I snooped through your stuff and shared some of it with a couple friends?' No, that wasn't going to fly. She had to come up with a better excuse, but that would be the Judy of the end of the week's problem. Today's Judy was going to try to do some of her own research in the meantime.

The bunny began by pulling out the crumpled drawing. Normally, she wouldn't have bothered with some picture drawn with crayon, but she needed every clue she could get. Looking at the only text on the piece of paper, she brought up Zoogle and searched for 'Wilde and Son's.'

When there were no results, she couldn't help but feel disappointment despite knowing that nothing would probably show up. Silently, she moved onto the photo and flipped to the back. She entered the date written on the back and blinked in surprise when her phone told her that it had been a Father's Day. And if she performed the simple arithmetic, Nick would have been age 6 at the time, which seemed consistent with the photo.

She studied the kit's face in the picture and imagined the present-day Nick standing beside him. The child's wide grin clashed heavily with the adult's smug smirk. Had it not been for the eyes, she never would have guessed that it was the same fox she was partners with. Then next to that fox was someone who was almost certainly his father.

Judy tried recalling all the conversations she had with Nick about his past, but as she went through every exchange, not once had he mentioned his father. He did, however, mention his mother. In fact, the bunny had already met the vixen a few times already; the first time had been at Nick's graduation ceremony. She looked through her contacts list, stopping once she found Mrs. Wilde.

Taking a deep breath, the bunny cop hit the call button.

* * *

 **This one was quite a bit earlier than I had expected, but also a bit shorter. The next one should be more consistent with my other chapter lengths, but we'll see. It'll feature Nick's mom again with more of a focus on Judy's perspective. I also included a small reference to a favorite show of mine (just like I did in chapter 2, but that one is a lot more subtle).**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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